Fate Deals Series: The betraying hand - Vol 1
by SophH
Summary: The Dragonborn was a famed legend, yet she was only spoken about in hushed whispers. Now after 200 years have past since the events that shook a land, a determined Bard is set on finding out her true story. [AU/extended timeline]
1. Chapter 1

_**Notes - This is a series of which I am only writing the story of one of its characters. It is very AU with an extended timeline (entire events of the game take about 12 years in total) As it is a series of stories, like Lord of the Rings and The Game of Thrones, a separate companion piece with all the extra notes and profiles will be available. **_

_**Other titles in the Fate Deals Series are available on fellow writer WintersBlueRaven's profile although I will post up the links on this story as they publish them. There is no real order that you need to read them in as they are all based in the same time period however are told from the different character's perspective so may have more about certain events than other characters. (Notes on this can be found in the appendices companion piece)**_

_**Hope that hasn't confused anyone and I hope you enjoy reading our take on the events of Skyrim!**_

* * *

><p><em>Talisan's story - s10008102/1/Fate-Deals-Series-The-Honest-Hand-Vol-1_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Fate Deals Series <strong>_

_**The Betraying Hand - Vol 1**_

_Chapter 1 _

**4E 415**

Flames flickered, sending black shadows across yellowed pages. The movement caused the figure to blink, eyes once again refocusing on the area in which she sat.

Rowdy drunks chattered and stumbled about on the wooden floor as every now and then a bar maid weaved her way through the throng of people, balancing full tankards of mead and ale. There was even a few weary warriors, their armour dented and blood spattered, as they sat quietly in a corner, gulping down their drinks as if they were eager to forget the day's battles.

Fastena watched the activities for a few more minutes before once again returning her attentions to the book that laid open on the wooden table.

She probably knew each of the black words by heart, yet she still read on, eager to delve into the tale of one of her favourite legends.

The tale of the Dragonborn.

_Although not much is known of the Dragonborn's whereabouts during the year 201 of the fourth era, apart from her presence in Helgen on the day of Alduin's return. It is rumoured however that she stayed somewhere in Hjaalmarch. _

Fastena frowned at the words she knew, but didn't understand. The books on the Dragonborn were so vague as if written almost grudgingly by some scholar that had pulled the short straw.

Shaking her head and sighing, she closed the leather bound book titled: **Notable people of the fourth era. **

She gulped down the last of the mead in her own glass before tucking the book back into her bag, making sure none of the pages would be creased. Although it held only the very basics of the Dragonborn's story, it was still one of the more informative books and Fastena treasured it.

She was about to slip out of the crowded tavern and into her rented room for the night, when one of the Bards decided to strike up a note.

Standing next to the fire, the Bard strummed her lute and began humming the first few notes of the song.

Fastena sat back down, her eyes closing as she began to lose herself in one of her favourites songs.

_Our hero, our hero,_

_Claims a warrior's heart._

_I tell you, I tell you,_

_The Dragonborn comes._

_With a voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art._

_Believe, believe,_

_The Dragonborn comes._

_It's an end to the evil,_

_Of all Skyrim's foes._

_Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes._

_For the darkness has passed,_

_And the legend yet grows._

_You'll know, you'll know…_

Fastena snapped her eyes open as the Bard was suddenly cut off with a mighty crash. The tavern was silent as one of the drunks stood over the Bard, anger and hatred bleeding into his eyes and his fists held up as if to strike the Bard again if she dared to get up.

"You shouldn't be singing about that filth! She was no hero!" The man said through a clenched jaw. The Bard rubbed her jaw, where Fastena could already see a bruise forming. She winched in sympathy but made no move to help the young woman, as did the whole tavern. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, waiting to see how the Bard would react.

But the woman merely clambered ungainly to her feet, picking up her lute at the same time before walking out of the tavern altogether.

The drunk man emitted a gust of air and lowered his hands. "Just as cowardly as the Dragonborn herself" he said in disgust before returning back to his drink.

Everyone looked unsure of what to do for a few moments before steadily the din of chatter began to pick up and soon enough reached the noisy levels it had been at before.

Fastena shivered, her body still tense from the scene that had played out before her. She was a Bard also, not a fighter. If a fight had broken out between the two, then a tavern brawl would be soon to follow she suspected. Something she was definitely keen on keeping herself out of.

So as quietly as she could she slipped from her table, partially hidden in one of the dusty corners of the tavern and retreated down the stairs.

The mead and warmth from the fire had made her sleepy, yet she still felt on edge from earlier. So instead of turning towards the corridor that led to the rooms available for renting, Fastena turned her body towards the door.

Giving a nod of acknowledgement to the inn's proprietor, she walked out of the Candlehearth Hall, gulping in big lungful of crisp cold air.

The fresh air steadied her nerves, as she stood just outside of the doors and looked towards the sky. It was a beautiful sight. Ribbons of green and blue danced across the inky blackness, occasionally blending to form purple hues that shone for a second before once again disappearing. It was a fantastic thing to see. In Whiterun, although it was still North enough to see the spectacular show, they only showed on rare occasions, and the colours tended to remain red and oranges. Here they showed up every night, intent on performing their dance to all Nords who lived in the snowy capital.

A small gasp brought Fastena's attention from the heavens and back to the city around her. The streets were almost empty, giving the lateness of the hour. Most people in their beds or enjoying a drink in the tavern she had just come from. But one figure showed up in the flickering torch light, kneeling on the ground and holding what seemed to be snow to her face.

Fastena moved forward, allowing her a glimpse of the person's face. It was the Bard from earlier and she appeared to be soothing the bruise she had acquired with the cold substance.

Moving closer to the Bard warily, she held out a hand to the female. She wasn't too sure if her help would be accepted but wanted to try none the less.

The Bard regarded her for a moment, blue eyes equally wary, but after about a minute she took Fastena's offered hand.

Helping her to her feet, Fastena smiled at the Bard. "Would you like me to go and get a healer?"

The Bard shook her head, then offered her a weary smile. "No. I thank you, but it is just a sore bruise"

"Are you sure. I mean just get it checked out. Make sure it isn't broken?" Fastena inquired knowing the stubbornness of Nords.

"No no. It is not broken. If it was, I wouldn't be talking" the Bard gave her a smile.

Fastena felt foolish, like a reprimanded child. "Oh okay" she muttered.

An awkward silence followed as both Nords did not know quite what to say, but neither wanted to leave.

"You sang that song beautifully. Quite a different take on how it is usually sing though" Fastena offered eventually.

The Bard's face lit up in a smile that ended in a small winch as the movement strained her injury. "Thank-you. I've always thought of it as a sad song despite it being depicted as a song of triumph and hope"

"Why do you say that?" Fastena asked, curiosity now peaked as it did when she heard anyone talk about their opinions on the Dragonborn. Most times she asked, she was met with hostility, as most had the same opinion as the drunk Nord inside. But Fastena felt like this Bard maybe different.

"I do not know" the Bard said, eyes glazing over in thought. "I suppose I just feel sorry for her, having all that pressure on her. To stop the war and save this land from Alduin's rage. It's a lot to ask of someone, do you not think?"

Fastena stared at the ground in thought for a while. Could the Bard's words be the truth? Was it too much to ask of one person?

"Maybe" she said finally.

Again the Bard offered her a smile. "In any case, her story is over and done with. Whatever the reasons she had, it is not to be known now"

With a final thank you and a pat on the shoulder, the older woman walked back into the tavern. Fastena stood in the middle of the courtyard that was the first area you entered once walking through the huge gates that barred Windhelm from enemies.

Lost in thought, she didn't notice the figure moved silently from the shadows and approach her. Not until the figure was standing right in front of her, appraising her with cold red eyes.

Fastena started, and stumbled back. Fear gripped her and she reached within the folds of her cloak to grasped the strong hilt of her dagger. The only weapon she carried and hardly knew how to use.

Heart beating a mile a minute she began to retreat, back to the relative safety of the tavern behind her, all the while eyeing the figure who now stood motionless.

But then the figure suddenly smiled, not unkindly. "You have no need to fear me, Fastena."

Fastena's heart stilled at the words. "How do you know my name?" she uttered, panic now freezing her to the ground.

The female looked guilty for a second, dropping her eyes to the ground and raising them again. "I have… I've been following you for a while."

Fastena's gulp seemed to get lodged somewhere in her throat making it hard to breathe. Her whole body was in full panic mode yet seemed close to shutting it down as fear clouded her brain.

The figure seemed to notice her panic and moved a step closer. "You seek answers about the Dragonborn"

This time Fastena froze in shock. Just who was this stranger, and how did she know so much about her?

"H..How?" she spluttered out eventually.

"My name is Serana"

Eyes widened, taking in the figure in new light. The red and black clothing with dagger strapped tightly to her belt. Short brown hair, the fronts tied back into twin braids and the coolly assessing red gleaming eyes.

"Serana!"

The vampire looked around. "Keep your voice down. Do you want the whole town on my back?"

Fastena shut her mouth immediately and looked around guiltily.

"Look, follow me, if you want your answers" Serana said before sweeping around and heading off into one of the side alleys.

Fastena stood for a few more moments, indecision racing through her. If what the vampire said was true, then all the answers she had sought nearly her whole adult life, could be just a small journey away. But what if the vampire was just tricking her to get an easy meal. The vampire looked like what Serana had been described as in the books yet those books had been written almost 150 years ago.

After the figure disappeared around the corner, Fastena made her decision. She just couldn't let this chance slip by. She had to know the truth.

So setting off at a run, Fastena left the steps just outside the tavern and followed after the vampire, heart racing in fear and excitement.

* * *

><p>The door creaked open, disturbing the dust and making the Nord cough as she walked into the house. "What is this place" she said while glancing worriedly back at the vampire who had led her here.<p>

"Hjerim" Serana replied shortly before hurrying deeper into the depths of the house.

Fastena stood close to the door, unsure of herself again. Could she mean _The _Hjerim. The house that the Dragonborn had called home.

Light spluttered into being, casting the corners of the house into shadows, but also highlighting objects that had the Nord's heart beating in excitement once more. An orcish bow, the supple wood with green tendrils running through it, shimmered in the light from its plague mounted on the wall. In a corner, displayed on it's own mannequin was leather armour, looking worn and tired with a thousand nicks and scratches on its surfaces. And finally, if she was having any doubts, they were now shoved from her mind completely as she caught sight of a mask, it's downcast face charred by fire almost making it unrecognisable.

"It really is" she uttered.

Serana gave a weary chuckle making Fastena turned towards her, realization making her eyes go wide.

"You travelled with her! You actually knew her!" Fastena could barely contain her excitement anymore. She longed to run around discovering and learning about every object in the house. Instead though she rapid fired all the questions she had been burning to ask for an age.

"What was she like? Where was she during the year 201? Did she really train with the Greybeards?"

Serana looked at her like she had suddenly grown an extra head before turning towards the mask, reaching out to it almost hesitantly.

"She was…"

Fastena waited with baited breath, but the vampire didn't look like she was going to elaborate further, eyes locked on the mask. She was about to ask once more when Serana spoke up again.

"I'll let you decide for yourself what she was"

Turning away from the mask, arm dropping back limply to her side, the vampire turned back to her. Reaching inside her cloak, Fastena furrowed her brow in confusion when Serana brought out a small leather book. It looked impossibly old, the red colour of the cover almost worn away with time and covered in creases. Serana passed it to her, though looked reluctant for it to leave her hand.

Curiosity burning within her, Fastena gave one last quick puzzled glance to the vampire before opening the book.

* * *

><p><em>TBC...<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**Note - This chapter is mainly canon, that follows the first few quests of the game. Therefore I have tried to keep it to the bare minimum and is mainly for you to get to know the Dragonborn's character. After this we will be deviating into more AU territory. **

**A review made by Humancygrax was correct in their assumption that the book Serana gives Fastena, is her quest journal. I did start this chapter in the format of the journal however I decided to scrap it as I felt it made the pace of the story too fast. That being said I have though decided to make a tumblr account for Metteri which will have these journal entries. I shall put up the details of the site when I have finished it, if you are interested in reading them. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>WintesBlueRaven story in the Fate Deals series - s10012960/1/Fate-Deals-Series-The-Honest-Hand-Vol-1 Read it and you may recognise someone in this chapter.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Fate Deals Series<strong>_

_**The Betraying Hand - Vol 1 **_

_Chapter 2 _

**17****th**** of the Last Seed. 4E 201 **

The Nord gasped as she finally broke free of the vines that was holding her back. "Blasted plants" she angrily muttered as one long green tendril seemed to be firm its mission to grab her arm. Taking the loaned war axe she chopped at the offending stalk, effectively cutting it off from the main body. It fell limply to the ground with a small thud, acting like it had been innocent all along.

The blonde glared at it for a moment longer, as if daring it to get up and attack her once more.

"Get down!" The hushed whisper had the woman tearing her gaze from the plant and towards Ralof, who was already crouched behind some bushes. Sheathing the war axe, the Nord quickly copied her companion's move and hid herself just behind him. A moment later a mighty roar was given off and a black shadow passed overhead, causing a shiver to run through her. Praying to Talos that the Dragon they had just escaped wouldn't see them, she shuffled closer to Ralof, trying to blend herself into the shadows as much as possible. The dragon however passed on, with a stroke of its great wings, it flew further and further away.

The woman let her body relax, stretching her muscles as she got up.

"It looks like we're the only ones that made it" Ralof said also getting up. "But I hope…"

Metteri glanced sharply at the Stormcloak warrior. "He would have made it. He's Ulfric Stormcloak"

Ralof nodded, although still looked somewhat unsure.

"Come on" he said eventually. "My sister lives in Riverwood. We can stop for supplies there before heading on back to Windhelm"

The blonde turned to head down the path, but Metteri hesitated for a second, her hand automatically going to the long bow she had taken from one of the imperial soldiers in her flight. It was an instinct, a twitch she had picked up a few years ago, whenever she felt her control leaving her.

"Ralof" Metteri called out, stalling the older man in his footsteps. He turned back towards her, a curious expression on his face.

"What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Metteri decided to take the plunge. "I might not go back"

Ralof's brow knitted together in a frown. "What do you mean lass? Not go back to Windhelm?"

"Aye" Metteri nodded before dropping her head. What she was doing could be seen as abandonment, but she hope Ralof would understand. He had been her mentor for a couple of years now, ever since he had found her lying broken on a snowy field.

"Why lass?"

Again Metteri's hands twitched towards her bow as she lifted her head to meet Ralof's troubled gaze. "I just feel as if I need to get out and actually explore the land I've called home for the past 22 years"

"Adventuring? There will be plenty time for that after we've won the war." Ralof argued.

Metteri stayed quiet for a few moments, she hated lying to the man, even if it was only half a lie. But she needed him to understand and make sure he would stay quiet about her disappearance.

"But what if I don't survive the war?" she asked while keeping her eyes averted. Ralof stayed quiet. He wasn't one to gloss over the hard truths of war. Death was a constant companion to all of them, for all it took was one stray arrow or a step to the left a second too late.

"Alright"

The quietly uttered word, snapped the Nord's head up. Their was a odd reluctant look in the blonde's grey eyes but also a grudging acceptance.

"Thank-you" she smiled.

"But you can at least stop by the family's house. My sister can cook better than any of those Stormcloak soldiers and I can't have my favourite scout go wanting, can I now?"

Metteri's grin brightened to match Ralof's at the prospect of a decent meal. Ralof hadn't been exaggerating the inadequate and really quite awful meals they had had to suffer through recently.

"Lead the way, my friend"

* * *

><p>The fire crackled merrily in front of her, sending much appreciated warmth seeping into her bones. Although used to the chill of Windhelm, the Nordic woman hadn't like the cold that had seemed to be permanently set into her blood after endless nights on sentry duty and weary days travelling through cold mountain passes.<p>

But she was now huddled around a fire pit, a warm and delicious stew laying happily in her belly and the sound of laughter surrounding her as Ralof entertained his family with his tales from the battle front. She would be eternally grateful for the kindness Ralof and his sister had shown her. As soon as Gerdur had heard she was a friend of Ralof she had quite literally swept her into the family and her home, offering her all the supplies she could need or want.

Afterwards, Metteri had explored the village, Ralof had called home. It was vastly different to the home that she had grown up in catching the Nord's curiosity. In Windhelm, the people were cold and hard, mirroring their environment. But the warmth that surrounded the more southern town seemed to be insulated into the people as well. They had all seemed to welcome her, even though she was a stranger. A stranger that in Windhelm would be often met with hostility and guarded responses at best.

Relaxing, Metteri had found herself smiling more often than not, even got persuaded to play a game of hide and seek with the Ralof's nephew.

But now the sun had sunk below the horizon, her thoughts had taken a decidedly darker route.

Had she done the right thing?

She had a feeling it was going to be a question she was going to be asking herself for the rest of her life. She had been on watch duty that night and had seen the imperial ambush, slinking through the trees like shadows. Yet she had stood there and watched as they got closer and closer, until finally they had been on them, roars of fury in their throats and cold steel in their hands. She had been knocked out cold a minute later, and woken up to find herself bound in rope that chaffed her wrists and in a cart that had trundled them off to Helgen.

"Septim for your thoughts?"

Metteri turned her face up at the sound of a gruff voice. Ralof had turned away from his family for the moment, and had come to sit next to her. She smiled at the older man, he knew her so well.

"Just thinking" she replied.

"Aye, I guessed as much lass. What about?" Ralof chuckled.

She didn't answer right away. As much as she had grown to love the man like a father, she knew in this instance she would have to lie.

"Why do you fight for Ulfric?" she said eventually.

Now it was Ralof's turn to be quiet. He turned away from her, a small frown on his face.

"I suppose my story isn't too dissimilar to yours lass"

Metteri looked at him in confusion and Ralof gave another small chuckle before elaborating. "What's there to do for a man who's lost his family, apart from join a rebellion?"

Metteri thought about it. She knew Ralof had lost his cousin just before Ulfric whispers of up-rise grew in volume. But had he really just joined because, like her, he had nothing else to do and nowhere else to go?

Without warning, Metteri gave out a chuckle of her own. "We're two of a kind aren't we"

Ralof reflected her smile. "That we are lass, that we are"

* * *

><p><strong>18<strong>**th**** of the Last Seed. 4E 201**

Metteri stared at the stone walls that grew up around the city, protecting it from harm. Apprehensive shifted through her and she glanced nervously up at the guards who patrolled, their war axes and swords glinting in the morning light.

_Stop it! _She chastised herself. The Jarl may not have chosen a side but that didn't mean he was just biding his time till he joined the imperials. He could even side with the Stormcloaks. Beside she was covered in her old leather armour, there was no way anyone would know. Steeling her nerves she took a step closer to the gates. _You're only delivering a message in any case, _she told herself.

"Halt!"

The sharp voice stopped the Nord who looked up at the man who had spoken in fear. One of the guards was approaching her, casually she admitted, but she also didn't miss the way his hand came to rest on the sword strapped to his side.

"The city is closed." he stated.

She frowned. _Why would the city possibly be closed. Do they know about the Helgen? Had they caught Ulfric!_

Panic now raced through her. She had to get into the city now. She had to find out.

"I've been sent from Riverwood. They call for the Jarl's aid" she said, heart hammering inside her chest the whole time.

The guard narrowed his eyes at her but his hand dropped from his sword none the less. "Fine, but we'll be keeping an eye on you." He turned back around, nodding a stiff nod at his companion who opened the gates.

Again Metteri stared. The bustling city was a wonder to her, so full of life. From a woman hammering away at some steel to her right, to men trading war stories with each other and even children running up and down the path in front of her. With all the activity, Metteri was quite overwhelm. Where in Oblivion did she have to go to find the Jarl's quarters.

"I thought the city was closed"

"I dunno, I thought so too. Maybe the girl has news though?"

Voices sounded from just behind her and she turned when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"You heading to Dragonsreach?"

"What?!" she bit out harshly when she faced the speaker. Grey skin and red eyes stared back at her. A dark elf, armour clad and carrying a giant War hammer on her back. Again she wondered where she had ended up. The dark elves in Windhelm were constantly held in contempt, so to find one wandering around quite freely and so armed, was quite a sight to the young Nord.

"Dragonsreach, it's where you will find the Jarl. I assumed you had important news, what with you being allowed in and the city being closed and all" The elf raised a brow.

Metteri bristled at the response, her already agitated state taking the words as the elf mocking her.

"Aye, that's right" she replied curtly.

The elf raised her brow further but replied nicely enough. "Follow the path straight ahead. Once you hit the market head to the left up the steps. You'll come across a tree. Head straight across and up some more steps, you'll soon see Dragonsreach. Can't miss it."

Metteri stared at the elf some more. So different from the elves she had grown up with. This one held confidence in her stance, a power that was the same as the old Nord warriors had in Windhelm. Eyeing the war hammer further, Metteri gave the elf a nod in acknowledgement and turned away to head up in the direction that was pointed out to her. She didn't want to start anything with that elf. She was a long range fighter, good with the bow but useless in a up close and personal fight. Metteri knew that all it would take would be one swing from that weapon and she'll just be another bloodstain on the ground for some guard to clear up.

* * *

><p><strong>19<strong>**th**** of the Last Seed. 4E 201**

All she wanted to do was sleep, yet the Nord trudged on, lifting one heavy foot after the other until Dragonsreach came into view for the second time in as many days. Bleak falls barrow had taken a lot out of the young woman. She had faced giant spiders, stood in front of words that were written in another language yet had somehow understood and discovered that the dead still walked in the ancient crypts.

Metteri shuddered thinking of the skeleton arms, dry flesh still stubbornly clinging to the bones and haunting blue eyes that seemed to pierce the darkness to find you. They had only been a myth to the woman till now, something that her mother used to tell her to keep her out of the caves surrounding her home. But now they were very much alive, both in the crypts and in the Nord's memory.

The whole ordeal had worn her out, both mentally and physically. The bannered mare had almost tempted the Nord into it's depths. To drown out the day's events in a tankard of mead appealed to her greatly but the heavy weight of the stone tablet in her bag forced her onwards. She had to complete the quest she had been given before she would allow her body the rest it sorely needed.

So with eyes barely open she passed the guard who nodded at her to go in, and entered Dragonsreach.

The jarl was absent from his throne but Metteri heard the pompous voice of the wizard that had sent her in pursuit of the tablet.

"You see the terminology is clearly…"

The wizard cut off when he saw Metteri walk in. He turned to look at her, an expectant expression in his eyes. Wordlessly Metteri swung the bag from her shoulders and handed it to the waiting Nord. The man nearly dropped the bag as the weight took him by surprise. Giving her a glance that could have been annoyance if Metteri wasn't too tired to analyse it, he took a peek inside. His face lit up when his eyes found the stone.

"Ah the Dragonstone of Bleak falls barrow. Seems you are a cut above the usual brutes the Jarl sends my way" he gave her a smile.

Metteri tried to return it but it came out more of a weary grimace. "So I got the stone for you. I'm free to leave now, aye?"

The wizard was already taking the stone out of her bag, treating it more like a precious gem than the old stone that it was.

"Hmmmm…" he mutter distractedly. "Oh yes, yes. Off you go" he handed her the bag back before turning back towards the table his focus now entirely on the stone.

Metteri gave a sigh of relief, her body nearly sagging against the back wall. Before she could make her retreat however a loud voice called out and the Nord found her exit blocked by an agitated Dumner.

"Farengar! You need to come at once! A dragon has been sighted nearby!"

Chills ran down Metteri's spine at the words. Nearby?! No, she had just escaped the last one. Surely the Divines weren't so cruel?!

"You should come too"

Metteri was so distracted in her panic, that she almost missed the words spoken to her. But when she heard them and saw the anxious look on the elf's face, Metteri's eyes open wide and she physically had to take a step back.

"Me? No… I…" she struggled to find the right excuse. How could she get herself out of this one?

The elf wasn't going to be having an argument though. She grabbed hold of Metteri and shoved her forward, towards the stairs that led away passed the throne and into rooms unknown to her.

"We saw it coming from the south, it was fast… faster than anything I've seen in my life"

Metteri was roughly shoved forward, and she just managed to catch the last of what the guard was saying.

"Is it attacking?" came the Jarl's tense reply.

"No, just circling overhead when I left"

Metteri watched the guard and the Jarl, blue eyes swivelling between the two, as tremor after tremor began to shake her body.

Then slowly people began to leave, the guard to rest and Irileth to muster her troops. Metteri tried to edge herself away after the Dark elf had stormed off, but the Jarl turned to her before she could get away.

"I will need you help again, my friend"

"No… no, no please… my lord"

"You have more experience than most with this kind of beast" the Jarl continued, ignoring her pleading.

At the words, anger began to surge up in her, not replacing the fear, just over ruling it for now.

"Experience!" she shouted at the Nord. "Experience! I ran away! That's how I survived, by running while better men fought and died." Metteri paused, the quick outburst exhausting her. "We cannot win against such a beast" she ended on a softer note.

The jarl studied her for a long moment before saying in his own soft voice. "But what else can we do. If these beasts are to be the end of us, then I would rather die fighting like a true Nord"

Metteri reeled backwards as though she had been struck. She stayed a moment longer, staring at the grim but determined expression on the Jarl's face before turning and fleeing the building.

_TBC… _


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - So I was only suppose to put the Dragon battle scene in, in flashbacks but as I was writing, Metteri just kind of ran off with the words and said No! You're going to write this out fully. I swear it's like I don't have any control over her what so ever *sigh* Fighting scenes are not my strongest writing point however so any constructive criticism would be most welcome. **

**Also sorry for how long this took, I only get to write when I have spare time (which is not much) but I do hope to at least up date once a week from now on. **

**And lastly, the tumblr account is now set up where you can have look at Metteri's journal entries if you wish. Address is metteristormblade dot tumblr dot com. There is now some artwork concerning the Fate Deals series as a whole also. Links can be found on my profile page. **

**Talisyn's story in the Fate deals series s/10012960/1/Fate-Deals-Series-The-Honest-Hand**

* * *

><p><strong>FATE DEALS SERIES: THE BETRAYING HAND - VOL 1<strong>

_**Fate Deals Series **_

_**The Betraying Hand - Vol 1**_

_Chapter 3_

**19****th**** of The Last Seed. 4E 201.**

Bodies were already littering the ground, when Metteri arrived. Their yellow sashes were stained with crimson and their faces etched in their last moments of horror.

She had frozen at the sight, memories of Helgen being pushed to the forefront of her mind. It was only Irileth's war cry as she swung her sword at the great beast, that snapped her out of it.

Freeing her bow from the straps that held it to her back, she scouted around. The dragon was still up in the air, breathing fire at the guards while remaining out of the reach of the bite of cold steel.

_Well this is getting us nowhere, _Metteri thought. The dragon was just toying with them. How could you kill something that could roast you alive without needing to get close at all. Swallowing her fear, she tried to think past the sound of rushing blood that pounded in her ears.

What they needed was to get into it's range. Maybe… just maybe, if they could get high enough to aim a few arrows at its scales it would become enraged enough to land. Grounded, she thought, they might stand half a chance.

Anxiously she looked around, there was a raised platform to her left that was made from the fallen chunks of the stone tower. But it only rose a few feet from the ground, not high enough to get a clear shot.

Metteri growled in annoyance, as she narrowly dodged a blast of flame.

"Nord! You going to help, or are you just going to stand there!" Irileth shouted at her as she ran past, her sword sheathed for the moment and bow raised.

_I'm trying to help, _Metteri thought frustrated.

Another blast of heat nearly caught her in the face making her jump back, but soon the flames cleared, giving the Nord a view of the watchtower. It was smoking and a few flames licked at it's sides but nevertheless remained standing.

A small wave of victory stoked her as she ran towards the stone steps. A couple of guards stood inside, their faces mirroring Metteri's fear as they hid but she ran past them, eyes focusing on the spiral stairs that rose up through the tower. She had only to reach the first level to find an ideal location. A narrow window facing the east allowing a glimpse of Dragonreach to be seen but more importantly permitted the Nord an almost perfect shot at the Dragon who was hovered above the ground.

She quickly fitted an arrow into her bow and took aim. The dragon was remain stationary for the moment but the few arrows that managed to reach it were merely glancing off its thick hide.

"_Aim well and aim true" Oengul had said to her. "There are not many places on an animal that can take it down with a single shot but if you do there is less chance of spoiling the pelt and meat making them worth more gold" _

_Metteri listened raptly wanting to learn as much as possible so that she could maybe outdo her best friend for once. _

"_The first is in-between the ribs, hit there and you chance the arrow sliding past the bone and into the lungs or heart. But it's tricky, getting the arrow to slide in at such an angle. Most hits glance off and only warn the animal to your presence." _

"_Or there is the eye, a small target, but a direct one. Of course you lose an eye which could be used as an alchemy ingredient but you don't mar the pelt at all leaving you free to do with it as you like" _

Metteri returned from her memories, thanking Talos she had paid attention. Looking towards the dragon she quickly assessed her choices. The rib shot was too risky and would most probably just glance off as the other arrows were.

"So looks like it's the eye I'm aiming for" she muttered to herself.

Squinting through the smoke she raised her bow and took aim. The arrow whistled past her mouth as she let it loose, and she prayed that it would hit its mark. But the sharp gust of wind caused by the beast's wings knocked the arrow off course and it landed in dragon's open jaw instead. Metteri's disappointed turned to elation as the beast gave a roar of fury. It thrashed it wings against the air rising a few feet before it plummeted back down to the ground snapping up a guard in its anger.

Metteri watched in horror as the guard's screams pierced the air.

The dragon landed a few moments later, shaking the now limp form of the guard before the beast grew tired of its chew toy and threw the poor man to the ground.

"Well, I got it angry" Metteri said still reeling from the shock of seeing a man's life ripped from his body in mere seconds.

But the Dragon was now grounded and Irileth plus the remaining guards took up a war cry as they ran towards the mighty monster. Irileth landed the first strike, dodging the beast's mouth as she span to the side and slicing into the neck. Blood spurted out onto the Dumner, and the Dragon gave another roar, this time in pain. Spurred by the elf's victorious actions, and realising that dragon or nor, it could at least be harmed, just like any other animal, Metteri took another arrow from her quiver and aimed again.

This time her aim was true, and the arrow embedded itself in the beast's eye. The roar that followed, Metteri swore would be heard throughout all the plains of Whiterun. The Dragon lifted its head up to howl it's rage to the sky. Seeing the opportunity, Irileth surged forward and slashed at the exposed neck. Blood poured out and the dragon's roar got cut off short as it gargled and choked on its own blood. Slumping forward, the ground shook as it fell to the ground.

Metteri also slumped forward, earlier exhaustion catching up with her and adding to her now battle weary state.

_Had they actually done it? _

It didn't seem real to the Nord, as she peeked out of her window. The Dragon laid still, blood pooling out beneath its scales. Yet she refused to believe, her body prepare for it to lift it's head once more to begin it's assault anew. But as minutes passed, and the guards slowly began to circle the body, it still didn't move.

Hope began to fill her, and fuelled her to give up her hiding spot to head back down the steps.

The dragon looked even bigger from her new perspective on the ground.

"Is it dead?" One guard spoke up as Metteri arrived.

"As dead as I've seen any beast before" Irileth replied, kicking the great monster as she went passed examining it.

Metteri gasped, a strange hot sensation running through her. Stopping in her tracks, her eyes widened as the Dragon before her began to… melt? The scales were dropping like harvest leaves on the ground and the flesh beneath beginning to boil.

_What in Oblivion was happening to it? _She thought just as she felt her blood beginning to boil in sync with the creature and the sound of rushing wind began to fill her ears.

"What?" she muttered before she fell to her knees.

_Metteri tried to shrug off the darkness as it enveloped her, wrapping her in a heat that seemed the equivalent to fire from the Red Mountain. But the more she struggled the tighter it wound until she was struggling to draw her next breath. _

"_Is she okay?" _

_The voice of one of the guards seemed distant, like she was hearing it through water. But Metteri clung to the sound, meaning that reality was still happening around her, that maybe this pain was just a dream. But slowly the rushing and pounding of her own blood in her ears grew, grew until she no longer could hear anything else. _

"_No" Metteri whimpered, curling in on herself. She wanted to scream, but perhaps she already was screaming. Metteri didn't know anymore. _

_Then suddenly the blackness disappeared as the ground was returned to her. The brightness of the sun blinded Metteri after the pressing blackness. Blinking rapidly to try and regain her sight, the Nord keeled over in shock when the scene finally revealed itself to her. _

_A huge gaping jaw filled with yellowed teeth as long and as sharp as swords, was lashing out at a dozen armoured warriors. Blood poured down its scales as one warrior distracted it allowing another man to slash at its thick hide._

"_No no no no no no" the woman whimpered, beginning to rock back and forth. They had killed it. It couldn't be alive. They had killed it. _

_But the Dragon in front of was very much alive… and angry. Metteri could feel the anger tearing through her as if it was her own. _

_The Nord stopped her crying, as her blood pounded with the rage just like the Dragon's. It let out an almighty roar just as one warrior managed to create a deep gash in its side. Glaring at the surrounding humans it gathered its remaining strength and spoke. _

"_Fus!__"_

_A ripple in the air grew until it turned into a unbreakable wall, lashing out at the men and pushing them away. Some, standing on the edges of the force only stumbled back a few feet but the ones that were caught in the full blast of the shout were flung back, soaring through the air, shocked eyes opened wide in terror before they landed with sickening cracks against rocks and trees. _

_Metteri watched the whole scene and she understood. Just like the words in Bleak Falls Barrow she understood the Dragon__'__s anger and satisfaction at the men__'__s death. _

_The roar of pulsing blood returned to her as the scene slowly began to fade, until it was just a tiny prick of light in the vast darkness. _

Metteri's eyes snapped opened and she gasped in a great lungful of air. But the relief of the cool air on the back of her throat didn't last long as a familiar burning sensation rose up from her stomach. Turning her head rapidly to the side, she hastily grabbed her hair just before emptying the meagre contents of her stomach onto the tundra.

Feeling slightly better after the nausea past, the Nord began to shiver, the cold climate that she was usually used to, now feeling like the coldest and harshest of winters.

"Did you-"

"What-"

"How in Oblivion-"

The words were all spoken at the same time, sounding like a jumbled mess in the Nord's reeling mind. Looking blankly around her she noticed that she was surrounded by the remaining guards, each one with a different amount of fear and awe on their faces.

"I… I can't believe it" One guard said.

_Believe what? _Metteri thought, but felt too weak to voice.

"Dragonborn" Another man uttered, barely more than a whisper but Metteri caught it. Whipping her head around, that threatened to return the nausea, she stared at the guard who had spoken. He was looking at her with the most awe. He was young, barely a man turned yet his eyes held so much conviction that she stumbled back, falling onto her backside before scrambling away.

A sharp nudge from behind stopped her. Turning around, white bones stared back at her. Bones as big a horses but belonging to something much fiercer

"No… no"

_It couldn't be, no this couldn't happen to her. _

"I want proof." A rough voice sounded from behind her.

"Prove it, try and shout" it continued but to the startled young Nord, he was just background noise. Turning back around, staring at an unimpressed face and the faces of expectation and excitement on those behind, she finally snapped.

For what seemed like the thousandth time in a few days, Metteri turned on her heel and fled the scene.

* * *

><p><strong>27<strong>**th**** of the Last Seed. 4E 201**

The arrow flew and hit its target true. The spider crumpled to the ground, its many legs curling in on itself as though in its last act it was still trying to protect its body.

Metteri's lips curled in disgust. How many things had she killed now? Too many, but to the Nord, one would have been too many.

"You have my thanks traveller"

Metteri's head shot up at the words. She had thought she was alone.

The guard walked towards her, a smile on his face and a sword dripping with green blood at his side. Metteri stood warily, it had only been 7 days since her battle at Whiterun and she was now far from the warm tundra, yet she remained cautious. Who knows how fast word would travel, if they were indeed looking for her at all.

But the guard seemed friendly enough, now wiping his sword in the snow to clean it. Green sash with three curling prongs within a circle inked onto the wooden shield. She must be near Morthal. She had heard little of the town while growing up in Windhelm, despite it being the capital of one of the nine holds of Skyrim. A tiny out of the way town surrounded by a harsh forest and treacherous swamps, it had little to offer to attract visitors.

But to the runaway Dragonborn, it was perfect.

"Is Morthal near?" she asked the guard, finally taking a small step towards the man.

The man looked up and gave another wide smile.

"Not often we get travellers willing to stop by" he said as he sheathed his sword. "It's just down the next hill."

"Thank-you" she said. "And would I be able to find an inn to rest at, I've had a hard journey"

Replacing her bow on her back she glanced once more at her surroundings, making sure there were no more spiders lying in wait.

"I think you'll find The Moorside Inn more than adequate. Give Jonna something to smile about as well. Divines help us, she's always on about the lack of visitors to Morthal."

The guard was now walking away, gesturing widely with his hands, to emphasise the story he was telling. Metteri hurried to catch up, falling in to step just behind him. The guard was a talkative one, telling her stories about this that and the other, that Metteri only paid half of her attention to.

After a small walk they crested a hill, and Morthal came into view. It _was _a small town. Only one road passing through it while the other half of the town spread across the shallow swamp water.

Actually kind of ingenious, she thought, as she got closer to the dock like design that weaved across the water's surface.

"Here we are" the guard's voice spoke up punctuating Metteri's thoughts.

They had arrived at a building very much like all the other buildings in the town. Wooden and simple with a straw thatched roof.

"Thanks" she said to the guard again. He disappeared off, with a cheery grin and a big wave.

Metteri couldn't help but grin after him, he seemed like such a optimistic, happy man despite living in such a dull harsh town. She shook her head at the thought of it before turning back around to enter the Inn.

Just in the corner of her eye though she couldn't help notice the ruins of what was probably once a small, simple family home. Her hand that was ready to push open the door, dropped back limply to her side.

_Just a burnt down house, _she tried telling herself. Yet still she strode forward until she was standing on the steps that led up to it.

"I wouldn't go in" A voice spoke from behind her.

Metteri turned, her heart hammering ion her chest. She hadn't even heard the girl approach.

"Mama says it's cursed" the girl continued with as much conviction in her voice as only a child could have.

"I hope it isn't though. Helgi wouldn't let it be"

"Who's Helgi?" Metteri asked the youngster, finally turning her gaze away from the ruin.

"My friend. But she died in the fire. Falion says that means I can't play with her anymore" at this the child gestured eagerly to Metteri, her eyes lighting up. "Say lady, can you keep a secret?"

Metteri nodded mutely wondering if all people in Morthal were this talkative. The two she had met so far seemed to be far chattier than most in any case.

"I still play with her." the girl whispered excitedly before leaning away again. "Only at night though which means I have to sneak out from my bedroom."

Metteri raised an eyebrow. The girl played with another supposedly dead child, but only at night. _Where have I ended up now? _She thought as she made up way back towards the Inn and to hopefully her first full night's rest in what seemed months.

* * *

><p><em>TBC…<em>


End file.
